When I Wake Up

by Macedo, Ana Paula

  I thought that my fear of it not working out came to be greater than my desire to be with him. I was very insecure and I knew that after I was gone, Roy would meet other girls or worse than that, perhaps the special person who may steal his heart from me and remove me from it. It looked like I already lived in his heart, but even so, I was really afraid of being expelled from it. If I could, I would remain there in Florida with him.

  Nancy was never tired of telling me how much she would miss me:

  “Sophia, the house will not be the same without you.”

  “Oh Nancy, pretty soon you guys will forget me,” I answered.

  “Forgetting you is impossible, Sophia. You are unforgettable,”

  Roy interrupted us with these comments that teased me, and how I wished I could believe him, but deep down I could not.

  I spent all morning packing up bags and wiping away tears. I did not want Roy to see me crying, but the pain of longing had already taken care of my chest before I left. Each piece of clothing that I put in the suitcase, each accessory, had a story to tell about Roy and me. Each piece reminded me of something we did together and each reminder was accompanied with happy times, but also a great feeling of emptiness and sadness.

  Before, I did not know what it was to have Roy. Then, I knew what it was to miss him and fear of losing him. I wanted the time to stop today and for the world to stay static, so that my stay there with him wouldn’t come to an end. Roy also had the option to ask me to stay. He could ask me to give up everything I have in New York, which is not much, because I only had a good job and good friends, but none of that compares to being next to him.

  As I packed my suitcases, I lied to myself saying that, when I stood next to Roy, I did not feel the sadness that always took over me. That was not true. That void was still there.

  I did not like parting. I did not like to say goodbye. I thought that it makes one live the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

  Today, on January 18th, I was going back to New York and consequently having to say goodbye to Roy. How hard it was to say goodbye to him. I was afraid of not seeing him again. Of course, I would have to see him for an interview for immigration, but I was not talking about seeing him that way, but to be with him, physically and emotionally, together at the same time. At that moment, I thought it was unfair to have to leave. I was angry at having to say goodbye to him. In a few hours, I'd be in New York, away from Roy. But on one hand, I would not be so far from him, because although we have decided that we will not be in a relationship at a distance, because I did not believe in relationships where people are not together, my Roy will go with me in my heart.

  I entered the room. My luggage was ready. Unfortunately, in a while I'll have to say goodbye to Roy. Have you ever imagined longing for something, getting to the point of having that person and when you were already getting used to them, you have to give up and say goodbye? That's how I felt. I could not see expectations or a happy ending in a few months, but I could only contemplate the pain of loss within my being.

  Again, I had been deceived by my emotions and betrayed by the traps of life, but this time, I myself had built my own gibbet and signed my death sentence. Roy was not guilty. He was simply himself. I surely was guilty of all the pain that welled within me, for if I had not embarked on this marriage with the expectation of getting him, maybe today I would have been free from this feeling and would not have known the pain of the loss of Roy, because before I knew what it was like not to have him, but not lose him.

  Now, besides it all, I knew exactly what it was to be beside him, feel his touch, be caressed and spoiled by him. Unique moments that deep down, despite the confusion that came into my mind and the hatred I felt for having to leave him, I would never give up that month I spent with him, for he was part of my story. He left my fiction and became a real character within my existential script.

  And as for life? It was too cruel to me. Near or far from Roy, I felt sad, but now who knows if the longing I felt for him will give me strength to live and make me forget the void? After all, longing is better than emptiness. Because when you look at emptiness you see nothing and when you touch, you feel nothing and there is no greater pain than to have nothing concrete within yourself to give you strength to live.

  We were at the airport. I had already done the check in online and was just pulling out my boarding pass at one of the terminals. Time flew and soon, I would have to embark. To hold back tears, I thought of the good times I had next to Roy and looked at him in a way as if I could save his picture in my mind and no longer forget it.

  I already had the boarding pass and passport in hand, the suitcase had already been dispatched and the time was approaching. I knew I still had to go through security and this could take a while, so I had to do the inevitable; say goodbye to Roy. I turned to hug him. A strong and tight hug. It seemed like it would break me, from how tight he hugged me. How he gave me security. Even though we were surrounded by people, we kissed passionately, tears streaming down our faces as if it could wash our soul and ease our pain.

  I was desperate. I wanted to contain this desperation at all costs. It was time, I had to go. I already had turned back when he pulled me and told me:

  “Sophia this is not the end. We shall be together again.”

  I went back into his arms and gave him one more kiss. Only the tears, the silence and the pain took control of me. Now, besides the void, whirlwinds of emotion and the longing that I've carried within me, I added something else, the promise made by Roy that one day we would be together for real.

  I went through the security line, took off my shoes, my cell phone from my pocket, all that would give me a reason for the guards to frisk me. I walked from the security line to the departure gate. In forty five minutes, I would board. I sat there, watching people, and the planes outside, in the air and on the tarmac, but nothing made sense to me. I was not even worried if the plane would be delayed or not. For me, the only thing that made sense was my pain. My tears did not stop and continued rolling down my face and I did not even wipe them away. People shot me glances and looked away quickly.

  The boarding for my flight was just announced. Goodbye Roy. Goodbye Florida. My phone vibrated, it was a message from Roy: “It's not the end. I'm already missing you Sophia.” I searched inside me to find a reason to believe that it was not the end, but I could not find any. Certainly, Roy would meet someone soon and I would just be Sophia, who passed through his life and loved him intensely.

  I got on the plane. I sat by the window. I put on my seatbelt and closed my eyes. I decided to sleep in order to get away from myself and my pain.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please put your seats in the upright position and keep your seatbelts buckled. Within a few minutes we will be making our descent into JFK airport. Thank you for flying with us.” I was awakened by the voice of the flight attendant. I looked at my side and did not see Roy and I realized I had slept the entire trip. In a few minutes I would be landing at JFK airport, alone, without Roy.

  9

  A few months went by. It’s been a long time since Roy and I have talked. Things did not happen the way I had imagined. Roy has received his legal status to stay in the United States and was no longer subject to deportation.

  We spoke occasionally. We kept a distant friendly relationship, I in New York and he in Florida. For the first time since coming to the United States, he would be able to go visit Brazil.

  I missed him a lot. The further I was from him, the more my heart ached, the emptiness grew and I recovered the hope that if I manage to win him back and be with him forever, that pain inside of me would go away.

  Sometimes I did not even know which Roy I truly loved. If it’s the one who was in Florida; the one from my adolescence, or the character that I created in my imagination. Despite not being certain of which one I found to be my real love, I was inseparable from the one that I created. The Roy from my imagination was like s
ome kind of idol, a feeling that solved my problems and eased my pain. My imaginary Roy accompanied me even when I was having other relationships. When something did not work, it was my imaginary love for Roy that gave me the strength to continue. I was certain that something had gone wrong because the right person for me was Roy and who knows, maybe one day he would come.

  When I was going through painful situations, embarrassment, when it seemed that I had lost something, I reminded myself of the pain I felt when Roy had overlooked me, and anyway, I had managed to survive. One way or another, though, perhaps in a negative way, my passion for Roy, helped me to overcome difficult situations. I had learned to live with that feeling and giving up on it scared me.

  I have lost count of how many times I cried thinking of Roy. Especially after Florida when he gave me his love and because of my insecurity, I did not know how to cultivate it.

  How many times have I wanted to buy a one way ticket to Florida and stay there? But the fear of not being well received by him was the only thing that held me here in New York, a place where I had no roots, for I was not from there. But what kept me in New York? The hope of one day to be invited to go to a better place and conquer the desired happiness.

  Whenever my IPhone vibrated, before I answered or looked at it, my heart pounded with the hope that Roy was getting in touch with me. Usually, the hope ended and the disappointment came when I looked at the screen and saw that it was not him. But there came my lucky day. After some time without contacting me, that very day when my iPhone rang, it was Roy on the other end.

  “Hi, Roy, how are you?” I answered, trying to sound as natural as possible.

  “Sophia, it's been a while. I miss you.”

  “Good to talk to you again, Roy. What's new?” I asked, not to let the conversation die.

  “The latest news is that I'm going to spend a month in Brazil next month. Do you want to go with me?”

  What? Was I hearing right? I was either dreaming or Roy was really inviting me to spend a month with him in Brazil. It never even crossed my mind to refuse this invitation, but at the same time, I was overcome by the fear of not having his attention entirely on me there in Brazil.

  “Where in Brazil? Home?” I asked.

  “No. I'm going to the coast of Bahia, spending a month with my brother and to revisit friends. Let's go?”

  My heart raced. Again I was taking a chance with him. But something frightened me. His friends, those who were present in our teens, would be there. How would Roy behave with me in front of them? Would they agree with our relationship? Was the invitation to travel only to express his gratitude or an invitation to a second chance? Regardless of his intentions, I accepted it.

  “Of course I will go, Roy. I am also in need of vacation.” I replied.

  We arranged the trip for June. It was not summer in Brazil, but for those who were accustomed to the climate, the winter of Brazil was always very light. We would spend a month in a historic town, on the coast of Bahia.

  I sent all my passport details to him so he could buy the tickets. It looked like a fairy tale. In a month I would be embarking to Brazil with Roy. I would have a month to enjoy him.

  This time I was determined not to let my insecurity dominate me. I would drown out my jealousy, hide my fears and not let any of my ghosts disturb me. Roy was not a fiction. He was real. The reality existed and I was part of it. June in Brazil was part of an upcoming reality. It was not just a positive thought, or something I had created. No. June in Brazil with Roy was something real.

  Although I have dismissed the fear, it managed to get an entry ticket through the window crack of my emotions. You know those beautiful wooden windows, with glasses around and over the top. It looked like the glass of my window was broken, exposing my fragility, proving to me that the wood that covered my frame was not hardwood. The ghosts of Roy's friends awakened inside me, scaring me, telling me that it was all a theater that would soon end.

  When I thought of Roy's friends, I thought of the humiliation I had experienced in my adolescence. It reminded me of being excluded from his life and the length of time he had been without talking to me. How it hurt to be in love with someone who not only did not love me, but also ignored me to the point of not talking to me, as if I did not exist. I, on the contrary, always noticed his presence and wanted to draw his attention, but nothing I did worked because he did not notice me. Currently things were different. He noticed me, gave me attention, spoke to me. But it was so hard to get out of me that feeling of rejection acquired in my teens that persisted in continuing to live in me.

  And the dream seemed to become reality. Roy decided to come to New York a week before we would embark to Brazil. He would take the opportunity to get to know New York, the city that never sleeps.

  I could not believe it when I went to pick him up at the airport. The joy of seeing him was so contagious. I hugged him tightly and did not want to let him go. A few months away from him only served to reaffirm how much I wanted him. For me truly, it all seemed like a dream. Roy was spending a few days with me in New York.

  We went to Times Square and I saw in him the happiness that I normally see in the people who contemplate for the first time, the beauty of skyscrapers. The Marriot Marquis restaurant that turned the beauty of the buildings, one seeing themselves on the big screen TV, and that made people feel as if they belonged to that place.

  But my emotions did not stop. I simply wanted to be able to stop my thoughts. I wish I could forbid my mind from looking back or projecting the future, but it did not obey me. I didn’t know why, but sad events insisted on returning to my mind and it was like I relived the scenes in a very slow motion, like if I couldn’t lose any details. Details that saddened me, and took my peace away.

  As I walked the streets hand in hand with Roy, I imagined the time he did not hold my hand. Not that I had any grudges towards him. That was not it. It was just the pain of that time that had decided to stay inside of me.

  The feeling of contempt was not easy to overcome. It traumatized me, haunted me, and ruined my good times. Rather than focusing on the presence of Roy by my side, I was focused on the lack of it during my adolescence.

  We were with our bags ready to leave for Brazil. We spent the week shopping, taking advantage of sales and low prices to bring gifts back for friends.

  I had already visited Brazil several times, but for Roy it would be the first time and most of all, with me. I was very anxious about that trip. I was happy and worried at the same time. Sometimes, I thought that a month with him was my chance, an opportunity, but sometimes I also thought that this trip to Brazil could simply mark the end of our relationship.

  10

  We set off for Brazil. Our whole flight went smoothly. Roy saw friends and family he had not seen in a long time. I was at his side the whole time. But the ghosts that were inside me tortured me, every time I met with someone we had met in our past or in our childhood, something bad grew inside me and led me to despair.

  Tomorrow we will take a trip to the waterfall. Roy, his friends, and I. We will visit one of the most beautiful waterfalls in the region. I hoped everything went well and I could expel those ghosts who insisted on frightening me inside my own mind.

  The pain I was feeling was indescribable. I searched for the right words to describe it, but I could not found them. The pain was such that I felt it emotionally and physically at the same time. And all of my physical hurt, every organ of my body expressed the pain. I felt it in every part of me, even in those in which one cannot feel pain, as in the hair, cartilage and nails. My emotions circulated inside me, wandering in my gut as if they had tortured me physically and psychologically. I doubted that physical torture causes as much pain as I was feeling. It looked like someone was cutting me slowly without giving me a chance of defense. At the same time, it seemed that rats and pigeons, one of my biggest phobias, were placed with me in a dark room, all closed, causing me to scream for help, but it was not heard by anyone.
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  In fact, I was not alone. I had people around me and their presence resurrected ghosts inside my emotions that had not only decided to torture me, but this time decided to end my life.

  I came to think that the only way to solve my pain was to go back there in my past. Roy and I were together, but did not speak of the past. We appeared to be those people who believed that dwelling on the past is to suffer twice. I in reality would not relive it because I was stuck in him. But due to my pain, that day I decided to confront it.

  I realized that my problem was not in being with Roy that day, but the fact that I had been rejected by him in my teens. It was as if being with him at that moment would not ease the pain of the past. It was still alive, the wounds opened, and my emotions totally compromised.

  Roy and his friends were there by my side. But I was only there physically, because mentally, I was back in my teens. In my imagination, I met with Roy there in my past. He was as handsome as ever and I wanted to confide in him; open up for him, to express how I really felt. We were there in that restaurant with others at the table when I hugged Roy and I started crying and hiccupping. I ran into his arms, hugged him tightly, in a way that he could not let go easily. With my hug alone, one would be able to notice my despair, but it did not stop there. I started crying and hiccupping so strongly that I ended up drawing the attention of the people around me. Those who looked, would find that something serious was happening to me, maybe a tragedy. And it was. My emotions had collided with each other in me and caused an explosion from the inside out. This time I could not contain them within me and I had to externalize them through the crying and the hiccups. Roy was there, static, not knowing what to do and also without appreciating the scene or my emotions.

  I thought of getting the knife that was within my reach and cutting my wrists, but that would not help, as this would lead me to death, but would not solve the standoff of my unrequited love for Roy. So instead of cutting myself, I decided to open my heart, through my mouth and weave words to Roy that expressed my feelings about him. To continue to live, I needed to get back there in time and conceivably solve this inner conflict and declare myself to Roy, explaining exactly how I felt about him. I began by telling him: